


among us

by hummingluke



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Among Us AU, M/M, blood tw, but mostly this is kind of dark, some very light lashton fluff, the actual death isn't written out but the aftermath is described in minimal detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27188257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingluke/pseuds/hummingluke
Summary: "Luke clenches his jaw as he looks back down at the cups of swirling black sludge. He hates this. They’re scheduled to be on Polus for another month and a half, but more and more he finds himself hoping it’s over sooner than that, because he can’t stand the fear and distrust permeating every space on the base. He just wants to leave this hell, and he’s starting to care less and less whether that happens via the dropship, or a quick fall into the lava pit."or, the Among Us AU that nobody asked for
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 30





	among us

They’ve only been on Polus for two weeks. Two weeks, and already their crew of ten has dwindled down to four. When they’d first landed, and stepped off the dropship into the icy, biting air of the barely-habitable planet, the energy among the crew had been wary but overall positive. It’s no secret that Polus is the most dangerous base - a favourite haunt for impostors given its distance from other MIRA colonies and its general dark and dreary environment - but many of the crew were new recruits, excited to be visiting their first faraway planet and eager to conduct their research. The fact that an incident hasn’t occurred on Polus in a few months is a good sign, to them: a sign that maybe things are taking a turn for the better. They should have known it was only a matter of time.

The most recent death had been two days ago, and tensions had been thick among the remaining crew since. The meeting following the discovery of the body had been hours long as the last four argued over who could be an impostor. Luke had spent most of the meeting slumped in his chair, dread clutching at his heart as the very real possibility that none of them would ever make it off this damned planet began to sink in. Michael and Ashton’s voices had been hoarse from all the yelling by the end of it, and Calum seemed to be the only one satisfied with the final decision that no one would get thrown into the lava pit. It had only made Michael more suspicious of him, but Luke knows better. He’d seen the pain on Calum’s face when, a week ago, they’d thrown one of their own crewmates into the pit - a crewmate who’d turned out to be innocent, after all. Calum might seem stoic, but Luke can tell he has a gentle soul.

None of them had known each other before being sent on this mission, but spending two weeks trapped on a frozen planet with less than a dozen colleagues and a killer on the loose tended to provide for some rapid and intense bonding. Up until the most recent death, Calum and Michael had been two peas in a pod, often partnering up to complete their daily tasks and spending all of their free time together. Now that potential suspects are narrowing down, and with Calum’s general habit of not speaking unless spoken to, Michael has completely detached himself from his former friend. It makes Luke sad to see what seemed like such a strong bond break so quickly, but he doesn’t think it actually has anything to do with Calum himself. Michael’s paranoid of everyone, now, as evidenced by the way he’s watching Luke from the office doorway as Luke pours two mugs of stale coffee.

“Do you want me to pour you one?” Luke asks, attempting to ignore the scowl on Michael’s face. Michael doesn’t reply, instead giving Luke a once-over before walking away with a huff.

Luke clenches his jaw as he looks back down at the cups of swirling black sludge. He hates this. They’re scheduled to be on Polus for another month and a half, but more and more he finds himself hoping it’s over sooner than that, because he can’t stand the fear and distrust permeating every space on the base. He just wants to leave this hell, and he’s starting to care less and less whether that happens via the dropship, or a quick fall into the lava pit.

Luke dumps cream and sugar into one of the mugs until the coffee is almost as pale as him, and emitting a sickly sweet aroma, then he puts on his helmet and heads outside to the O2 building.

As Calum and Michael’s friendship developed (and then shattered) Luke himself had grown close with Ashton, the most experienced member of their crew and one impostor-survival story away from becoming somewhat of a legend at MIRA. None of them knew each other before, but everyone knows _of_ Ashton. Luke’s known from the beginning that if he was going to survive this mission, Ashton would be the one to befriend. He was strong, and intelligent, and had a disarming stare that made other crewmates swear that he could tell whether someone was an impostor just by looking at them. Luke knows that isn’t possible, but the man certainly does seem to be a good judge of character. Well, fairly good.

Ashton’s working in O2 all day today. There had been some odd anomalies with the tree last night, and he’s spent most of the morning sitting at its roots, hunched over his tablet as he examines the data. It was how Luke had left him an hour ago when he popped in to change the oxygen canisters, and it’s how he found him now, tiny crease in his brow, though he looks more focused than confused.

“I brought you some coffee,” Luke speaks up softly from the doorway, not wanting to startle Ashton. “Thought you could use a break.”

Ashton’s small frown dissolves into a warm smile as he looks up at Luke. He sets his tablet aside with a sigh and holds his hand out, but when Luke hands him the mug, still steaming despite the trip outside in below-freezing temperatures, he sets that down as well and extends his hand once more. 

“Sit with me?” he asks, and Luke blushes ever so slightly as he takes Ashton’s hand and allows himself to be guided to a spot on the floor clear of roots and wires.

“How’s it going?” he asks as Ashton takes a sip and hums in satisfaction. Ashton’s the only person on the crew who actually likes the coffee here, and for the first few days Michael had liked to joke about how that must mean he’s an impostor.

“Well, I’ve ruled out sabotage,” Ashton replies, looking over at the tree as if it might suddenly decide to reveal its secrets. As senior researcher, Ashton is solely in charge of monitoring the tree, and Luke admires how much he takes his duties to heart. Everyone understands the work MIRA is doing is important, but Luke has never met someone as passionate about it as Ashton. “My best guess is that something flew by that upset the energy field. Probably an asteroid. With only four people, it’s getting harder to keep them away.”

It sounds to Luke like this is something to be concerned about, but Ashton seems unfazed as he takes another sip of his coffee, his thumb tracing the back of Luke’s hand where it rests on his knee, their fingers still intertwined. Ashton always appears unfazed, though. Apart from his screaming match with Michael the other day, he’s well-composed, carefully observant, and the voice of reason. Luke supposes that’s just what happens when you survive a dozen impostor attacks - if they don’t drive you insane, that is.

“Should we be worried?”

“The tree will be fine,” Ashton turns to Luke with that same smile that seems to be reserved just for him, and Luke’s stomach flutters, though he’s not sure if it’s from Ashton’s gaze, or his carefully-chosen words. He looks down at their hands, and when he gives Ashton’s a slight squeeze, Ashton squeezes back. “Hey, you’re safe with me, Lu. You know that, right?”

Luke nods. He wishes that Ashton would say more, would promise him that they’ll make it off this stupid base alive, but he knows better. Ashton doesn’t lie, and he doesn’t make promises he can’t keep.

“Michael won’t stop glaring at me,” he mumbles, toying with the strap of his helmet with his free hand. “He’s making me nervous.”

“Michael’s fine. He’s just nervous, himself. We all are.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m always nervous.”

“You don’t seem nervous.”

“It’s not so bad when I’m around you.”

“Oh.”

It’s the closest either of them has come to actually acknowledging the feelings they’ve been dancing around for the past two weeks. What had started as soft smiles and fond glances, a brush of a hip here or there, has slowly graduated to hand-holding in their moments alone. Relationships are almost impossible in this line of work, and Luke has never been in one himself, so it’s all kind of a big deal to him, and he’s grateful that Ashton seems perfectly content to let him set the pace for whatever this is between them. Luke doesn’t really plan on letting it go much further, though. When this mission is over, they’ll leave this little bubble they’ve pulled over themselves, and go their separate ways, on to another mission, on another planet. They might not even cross paths ever again. MIRA is a big company, and the galaxy they operate in is even bigger.

Never really one for words, Luke’s not sure how else to respond to Ashton’s confession. He takes Ashton’s hand in both of his, plays with his fingers, and hopes Ashton understands it as the reciprocation it is.

They find Michael’s body the next morning. It’s a sloppy job, his throat slit right outside the sleep quarters, in full view of the security cameras. Luke almost throws up in his helmet as Calum, face devoid of any emotion, gently picks up the corpse, and Michael’s head rolls, a bit of blood trickling out from the gash in his neck.

“He’s still warm,” is all Calum says, before standing up and making his way towards the lava pit.

Luke shares a look with Ashton, then the other man bends down to pick up Michael’s discarded helmet. The collar is ripped and soaked in blood, the visor cracked. Ashton stares at it for a moment, expression unreadable, before following Calum to the pit. Watching them dump the body is the last thing Luke wants to do, but his feet pull him forward without a second thought, following after Ashton like a lost puppy.

It’s as unceremonious as the other five times they’ve had to do this. Calum hesitates for longer this time, kneeling at the edge of the pit, clutching Michael’s body, and for a moment Luke thinks he might just launch the both of them over the edge. When Ashton approaches him and rests a hand on his shoulder, Calum seems to be pulled from a daze. He rests his forehead against Michael’s for a moment, then slowly lets go. Michael’s body rolls out of his grip and over the cliff’s edge. Luke flinches at the dull thud and subsequent roar as flames immediately consume the corpse. Ashton adds Michael’s helmet to the row next to the pit, a tribute to their fallen crewmates. For most, it’s the only thing left of them at all, the only way they’ll ever be remembered.

It’s mandatory procedure to hold a meeting after a body is discovered. Luke’s as sullen as he was during the last meeting, but this time Calum and Ashton are the same. Nobody speaks for a good ten minutes. They all just stare at the table, undoubtedly thinking the exact same thing: there’s only three of them left, and someone at this table killed a person less than an hour ago.

Calum’s the first to move.

“I can’t fucking do this again,” he grunts, standing up from the table so quickly that his chair falls back. “I can’t- I’m going to check on my samples. I can’t do this right now.”

Ashton looks just as surprised as Luke feels as Calum walks out of the office. They turn to each other, an entire conversation taking place between them without either saying a word, until Luke shakes his head in denial.

“No, he wouldn’t.” He wishes he sounded more convinced. “He _couldn’t_. Not Michael.”

Calum wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, he did one time, accidentally; he stepped on a bug in the lab with his massive boots and then stressed about it for days afterwards. He could never do it intentionally, though, right? He was quiet, but he was a good colleague. A good _person._ Not a killer. At the very least, he could never do... _that,_ to Michael.

“I can’t believe it either, Lu, but who else could it be? Me?”

“ _No._ ” Luke has never been more certain of anything in his life.

“You?” Ashton asks, inevitably. Luke doesn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before Ashton answers for him. “No. So who’s left?”

Luke can’t accept that, yet, and so he racks his brain for a different answer. His eyes fill with tears of frustration and resignation.

“Well, what do we do now?” he finally asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“We keep doing what we always do,” Ashton replies, voice steady and sure. “We do our job. We stay together. We watch each other’s backs and we fucking make it to the end of the two months. We survive. And if we get the chance, we…”

Luke’s grateful that Ashton doesn’t finish the thought. Calum’s words from the meeting three days ago ring through his head, accompanied by a nagging feeling of guilt and shame.

_“If we kill them, even to avenge, we’re no better than they are.”_

“I don’t want to,” Luke murmurs. “I’m so tired of it, Ash. I can’t do it anymore.”

His vision is so blurry, he doesn’t realize Ashton’s reached out until his thumb runs along his cheekbone, collecting the tears under his eye before they can fall to the floor. He moves to grasp Luke’s chin, turning his head until Luke’s forced to look at Ashton, hazel eyes piercing his soul.

“You don’t have to, Lu.”

It’s so heavy, so final, that Luke wonders whether Ashton knows more than he’s letting on.

That evening, Luke slumps against the bathroom wall, watching Ashton get ready for bed. As the other man bends over the sink to rinse his face, Luke toys with the knife in the pocket of his jumpsuit, trying to work up the nerve to do what he has to do.

He’s known all along that it was only a matter of time before it came to this, but he’d hoped, he’d wished, foolishly, that he’d have more time. More time to think of a way out of this, for himself and for Ashton, maybe for the other crewmates. If not that, then at least more time to just _feel_ . Years of working for - no, of being a _slave_ to - the fringe group trying to take down MIRA meant years of wasted moments, of aborted feelings and almost-friendships, years of having the rug pulled out from under his feet every time he felt he was finally planted on solid ground. Luke hasn’t met someone like Ashton in so long, someone who makes him feel like he can finally breathe, who gives him hope for something more, and he just wants some fucking _time._ But, since when has he ever gotten what he wants?

He meets Ashton’s gaze through the polished metal sheet that acts as a mirror. The scratches and rust spots somewhat distort their faces from this distance, and make them both look much older than they are, though that could have more to do with the years of endless work and trauma they’ve both been through. 

Ashton smiles, and while it does reach his eyes, it’s a tired one. Luke swallows hard. Ashton turns off the tap, picks up his toiletry kit, and heads out of the bathroom, pausing with his hand hovered over the light switch. 

“You done in here?” he asks, and Luke hums.

“Was waiting for you.”

Ashton huffs an almost-laugh and shakes his head as he flicks off the light. 

“You’re a sweetheart.”

The compliment makes Luke’s stomach drop as he follows Ashton down the hall to his private quarters.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he asks warily. “I’m scared of…y’know.”

“Of course you can.”

Luke sways in the doorway as Ashton turns his back to him once more, crouching down to open the small locker next to his bed. Luke grips the knife in his pocket, takes a deep breath, and counts to three. Killing has never come easy to him, but this is, by far, the hardest one yet.

Ashton shuts his locker and stands up, and when he turns back around, Luke has the knife pointing at his throat. One swipe, and Ashton will crumble to the floor, and then Luke can go kill Calum while he sleeps, and then he can leave this fucking planet and try and forget about the horrible, horrible things he’s done here, and go and do more horrible things somewhere else, because it never fucking ends, does it?

“Lu,” Ashton breathes, composed as ever. He’s not pleading, like the others did if Luke was slow enough to give them a chance to do so, and he doesn’t sound particularly surprised, either. He sounds...sad. Disappointed.

“I’m sorry.” Luke tastes hot, salty tears on his chapped lips. “I- I have to. They’ll kill me if I don’t, or worse.”

Ashton’s gaze flickers between Luke’s face and the knife, glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights as Luke’s hand shakes.

“You don’t have to, Luke,” Ashton repeats his words from earlier, confirming Luke’s suspicion that he already knew Luke was the impostor, perhaps all along.

Luke shakes his head roughly.

“I’m so sorry,” he hiccups. “I have orders.”

Ashton’s own eyes are hazy, and Luke knows it’s now or never, but he can’t bring himself to move, to take one more step forward and swipe the blade. He watches, frozen, as Ashton slowly closes one hand around his extended wrist, pushing down so the knife is no longer level with his throat. Ashton’s other hand comes up, and Luke hears the soft click before he actually sees the gun, pointed straight at his head.

“So do I.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much reading! i hope you liked it, please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


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